


Ten Years Gone

by PalenDrome (nerdherderette)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Sex, Come Eating, Emotional Hurt, Explicit Sexual Content, Infidelity, Inspired By Tumblr, Kylo Ren Angst, Kylux Hardkinks Prompt Fill, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 06:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10077452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdherderette/pseuds/PalenDrome
Summary: A fill for thisKylux hardkinks prompt:Hux is a chronic cheater. By the time he sees Kylo at night, he's already been fucked by someone else that day. He's just a little too loose, too slick, too flushed, too condescending. Kylo knows, in the back of his mind, but is obsessed with Hux and can't bring himself to say anything about it. Their relationship is the only thing Kylo has, but it's slowly killing him.[excerpt]:Ben has always liked beautiful things.For as long as he could remember, he would surround himself with things of beauty.  They could be beautiful because of their rarity, or their appearance, or their purity.  Sometimes they were things to be collected, other times savored, or possibly experienced in the most fleeting of moments.  But no matter the source, beauty has always filled him with love and joy and an unwavering appreciation of life.In Ben's eyes, Armitage Hux was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  Which is why he can’t understand how the man is also capable of making him feel his absolute worst.





	

**Author's Note:**

> *Story is told in non-linear narrative format, jumping between years one and ten  
> **Title and song lyrics from "Ten Years Gone" by Led Zeppelin

 

**_Did you ever really need somebody_ **

**_And really need 'em bad_ **

**_Did you ever really want somebody_ **

**_The best love you ever had_ **

 

Ben has always liked beautiful things.

For as long as he could remember, he would surround himself with things of beauty.  They could be beautiful because of their rarity, or their appearance, or their purity.  Sometimes they were things to be collected, other times savored, or possibly experienced in the most fleeting of moments.  But no matter the source, beauty has always filled him with love and joy and an unwavering appreciation of life.

In Ben's eyes, Armitage Hux was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  Which is why he can’t understand how the man is also capable of making him feel his absolute worst.

He frowns as he makes a right into the parking lot.  The car idles as his quixotic fantasy wars with his conscience and self-respect.  He peers up at the onslaught of rain, the downpour coating the windshield faster than the _thwap-thwap_ of the rubber wipers can swat them away.

A neon sign proclaims “Free Wi-Fi” and “HBO” to those who bother to come off the desolate highway five hundred feet away.  It’s a cheap ass place.  Not the kind that rises twenty floors above the concrete with gold paneled elevators and uniformed doormen, or provides you with down bedding and a view of the city lights.  It’s the kind of place with a car bay in front of your room and linens that you would never want to put a blacklight up to. It stinks of something stale and faded, perfumed with a trace of unhappiness.

It feels like an hour, but after only several minutes, Ben is braving the elements and knocking on Room Twelve’s door.  When it finally opens, he’s dizzy with want.  After all these years, those  pale lashes, green eyes, copper hair and lean lines still stun.  Ben takes a deep breath, his lungs aching from the familiarity of L’Art de Martell mixed with Virginia leaf and cloves.

He stares at Hux, toeing the edge of the doorway with shoes that have seen better days.  When he finally looks away, it’s not fast enough to avoid the flash of gold which encircles a certain finger on Hux’s left hand.

“Are you coming in?”  Hux asks, not bothering to conceal his impatience.

“Yeah.”  Ben follows him in, his gaze straying to Hux’s ass.  It’s round and firm, and oh-so-tempting in the slim cut of his jeans.  Despite his reservations, he’s already half-hard.

Hux has always been Ben’s definition of beautiful.  If that’s the case, perhaps he is what Ben deserves.

 

****.~O~.**  **

Ben sprinted across the Quad.  If it were any other year, he would have spent a good portion of the day sneering at the sappy texts or lovey-dovey looks, or the abundance of chocolates and lingerie that were currently making the rounds.  He was never one who understood the clichéd sentimentality of Valentine’s Day, preferring to live in the here and now.

That was, of course, before Hux.

Hux was _gorgeous._   He was the kind of person who made you look twice, with his striking coloring, sharp cheekbones and soft lips.  When he laughed with you, the sound bathed you in its warmth, but when he laughed at you, the sound turned callous and cruel.  He was smart—brilliant, in fact, with an underlying ruthlessness driven by his need to succeed.

They both drank too much that night, in a small bar that served Buds and Michelobs to a college crowd looking for a cheap buzz.  It was a room filled with loud and sweaty bodies and a bar counter sticky with the remnants of their drinks.  It was a place where you had to shout to be heard over the too-loud thumps of the drummer or the ear-splitting reverb of the guitar, from one of the equally replaceable cover bands for that week.

It was where Hux tilted a green bottle in Ben’s direction from across the room, his lips curled in wry amusement at Ben’s arrogant stare.

They had bonded over music—over vinyl versus digital, and why certain songs written nearly half a century ago still managed to be relevant.  By midnight Hux was running his fingers through Ben’s long hair, and by 12:10 they had made their way down to Ben’s crotch.  By 12:15 Hux was straddling Ben’s lap, and by 12:30 they had stormed back to Hux’s dorm room in a mad rush to fuck.

It’s hard to keep secrets on campus.  Ben heard the stories—that underneath that cool exterior, Hux was nothing more than a unabashed cock slut.  That he loved it hard and fast, the bigger the better.  Which was a good thing.  Because Ben knew that once he plowed that delectable ass, fucking Hux was guaranteed to be more than a one time fling.

Because Ben was _hung_.  As in long and thick, dangling towards his knees, bring-you-to-your-knees hung.  In the dating game, Ben's prick was his _pièce de résistance,_ especially for a size queen like Hux.

Even so, Ben was shocked at how easily he had slid in that first night.  How well Hux took him, how _perfectly_ they fit.  There was no look of consternation, biting of the lip in hesitation, or insecure flush.  The gasp which escaped Hux as Ben mounted him was more from pleasure than from pain.  Ben gasped as well, his eyes widening as he watched the full length of his cock being swallowed, the furls of Hux’s anus smoothing as he steadily opened for Ben.

The image of Hux opening himself, filling himself with thick fingers and vibrating dildos and the largest and longest plugs made Ben blind with lust.  He grabbed onto Hux’s narrow hips, burying himself into that wet heat until he came with a keening cry.  The ease with which Hux had taken it all overwhelmed him, and in the absence of his usual embarrassment or guilt, gifted him with the best orgasm he ever had.

It had been three weeks of glorious fucking, and although their nights had yet to reach a good morning hello, Ben was ready for the next step.  He came prepared with a vinyl of “Physical Graffiti” as incentive and reservations for dinner at six.

A proper date.  Their first one.  The idea made Ben’s heart flip.  His nerves were enough on edge that when the door opened, he missed the way in which Hux’s brows had raised high in surprise.

 

****.~O~.** **

It infuriates Ben, the way Hux starts disrobing and unbuttoning his own shirt.  Those long fingers work the fasteners quickly.  There’s something decidedly impersonal about it; it’s all too clinical, too abrupt.

“No,” Ben growls.  It’s not the way he wants things done.  He wants to slowly expose every inch of that pale and freckled skin, to watch the way Hux’s breath quickens as his muscles clench under the fabric.  He wants to feel the thudding of Hux’s heart as it speeds against his ribs, and to feel the way Hux’s cock swells and fills in his hand.  And maybe—if he’s lucky—Hux will scream Ben’s name, something which never fails to wreck him with its sweetness and pain.

Hux reaches out and brushes the back of his hand along Ben’s cheek.  If Ben closes his eyes, he can almost describe the gesture as _fond_.

Hux's cotton shirt slides off his shoulders and onto the floor.  Ben shakes as he unzips Hux’s trousers; he can’t help but to stare at the way Hux’s prick beautifully fills out the front.

Ben wants.  Wants to feel that heavy flesh, to taste that bitterness on his tongue.  To delay the inevitable sadness which fills him when Hux finally bends over and begs to be fucked.

A last pull divests Hux of the remainder of his clothing.  His cock juts out prettily, pink and straight and long.

Ten years later, and Ben still gets hard by just _looking_ at it.  But it’s always been about Hux; for Ben, Hux has been the only one.

Green eyes stare down at Ben intently, always observant, always keen.  Pale fingers rub gentle circles into Ben’s scalp before they suddenly force the larger man down.

“ _Open wide.  That’s a good boy_.” Hux shoves himself without warning into Ben’s willing mouth.  Ben takes it, feeling Hux’s length drag along his tongue until it’s pressing against the back of his throat. Ben’s vision wavers and he fights to breathe; Hux watches in delight, his pupils dilating before his lids flutter closed.

Ben relaxes the muscles around his throat and takes it.  He breathes through his nostrils and hollows out his cheeks, his lips swelling as Hux fucks his face.  Ben tries to convince himself that this is what he wants, that somehow, even after all these years,  “ _A_ good boy” will eventually turn into “ _My_.”

 

**.~O~.**

“ _Hux_ ,” Ben gasps, his nipples hardening under the sharpness of Hux’s teeth.  “Don’t you want to go out?”

“ _Mmmm_ , would rather have you fuck me,” Hux answers, grinding his hips against Ben’s aching cock.

“We could do both.”  Ben dips his head, burying his mouth against the curve of Hux’s neck.  It’s embarrassing how quickly he unravels, how he wants to spill sweet sentiments that have no place existing at this stage in their relationship.  So he whispers them his head and busies his lips against the heat of Hux’s skin until he has nowhere else to hide.

Hux tastes of salt.  A fall of red hair brushes against Ben’s cheek, smelling of sweetgrass and cedar.  It’s spicier, more earthy than Hux’s normal scent.

“You smell so good,” Ben murmurs.  “Did you switch soaps?”

Hux gives a non-committal mutter before the rest of his answer is lost in a groan.  His fingers pull at Ben’s flies, reaching under the waistband to fist Ben’s cock.

“Want this,” he says, swiping his thumb over Ben’s leaking slit.  “Look at you, you fucking monster.  I can’t wait for you to fuck me with that fucking ridiculous prick, pumping me full with your come.”

Hux’s love of dirty talk never fails to drive Ben wild.  He pulls off Hux’s pants, then reaches around to prepare his ass.  Hux is already pliant, his channel slick and loose.  Ben inserts two, then three fingers easily.  The redhead is already bucking against Ben’s fist as Ben starts to push and probe.

“ _Shit,_ ” Ben breathes.  He pulls out his cock roughly and spins Hux around, fighting the urge to come.  He drop to his knees and pries those pink cheeks apart.  Hux’s beautiful pucker greets him, pink and swollen and wet.

Ben fills his nostrils with the scent of Hux’s musk and leans in.

It’s a little like pulling on a loose thread, its increasingly warped line unraveling until you’re left with nothing but a gaping hole.  Ben’s mind latches onto the feeling that something is just the slightest bit _off._   It’s the way Ben’s thumb slides against skin that’s too slick to be just sweat.  The way Hux’s skin is already too flushed.  It's the ease with which Hux arches his back and thrusts just a little too readily against Ben.

It’s the flick of Ben’s tongue which yanks on the thread until it’s completely out.  Because as he laps around that swollen, red rim, it is not the artificial sweetness of flavored lube which greets him, but the salty, musky taste of something which is definitely _not_ his own.

Ben pulls back and nearly retches.  Whether it’s from the sting of betrayal or the fact that he’s just tasted a total stranger’s spunk, he doesn’t know.

He rocks back on his heels, trying to steady his breathing.

“Ben?”  Hux’s irritated voice floats towards him.  Ben suddenly finds it hilarious that Hux should feel peeved.  “Come on, Ben,” Hux urges with a tempting wiggle of his ass.  “Get your filthy mouth back here and eat me out.”

“I—you,” Ben croaks.  He can’t stop himself as he swipes a finger between the cleft of Hux’s buttocks.  He digs in a little harder than necessary, his face falling when it comes back with something white and dry along with his spit.

“You’re always ready for me, Hux.”  Ben’s eyes narrow.  At this point, he can’t keep the accusation from his voice, and he figures he might as well go for broke.  “How do you do it?  Toys?  Fingering?”  He chokes.  “Multiple lovers?”

Hux’s green eyes flash unreadably.  “Lovers?  A bit sentimental, don’t you think?”  He sees Ben's expression, sighs and steps away.  “Oh, no.  We’re _nineteen_ , Ben. We’ve got the rest of our lives to be tied down.  I’m not about to turn down my opportunities now for a fantastic fuck.”

“Is that all I am to you?” Ben asks dully.  “Just another fuck?”

“It’s been three weeks since we’ve started fucking, Ben,” Hux says slowly.  “I would hardly call it a relationship.”  He reaches for his pants.  “I never promised you anything more.  If you’re not happy with our arrangement…”

There’s a spiraling desperation as Ben feels Hux slipping from his grasp.  “No,” he gasps.  “I-I’m cool with it.”  He reaches out to pull Hux closer.

Hux smiles and resumes his position.  As an apology, Ben spends an extra amount of time licking him clean.

 

******.~O~.** ****

“Yeah, like that.  God, you’ve always known just how to fuck.”

Ten years gone, and it’s been one broken delusion after another.  Ben’s become a master at deceiving himself, of rewriting the rules.  Of thinking that one of these days, he will cease being one of many, and mean something singularly in Hux’s life.

He’s a master of ignoring the bruises on Hux’s hips, the size of which don’t align with Ben’s tightening grip.  Ben’s pelvis snaps forward as Hux leans into the wall, his hands spread against the plaster as he pushes back equally as hard.  The flash of the neon which filter through the curtains shades Hux’s face in a bizarre light.  It’s tougher than when they first met—less soft, less smooth, but with no less of a hold on Ben’s heart.

“Fuck.” _Fuck you._ “Fuuuuck, Hux,” Ben grunts.  Hux’s right hand lowers to speed up and down his cock.  Ben’s thrusts grow erratic, and at the last second, he growls and grips Hux’s left hand tightly, covering it completely with his own.

He spills.  Hux clenches around him, draining out every last drop of his pathetic release.  Ben doesn’t mean to, but when he shifts to relieve the pressure from Hux’s ring digging into his hand, he slides out quickly, along with his dribbling come.

Ten years later.  Hux is still lax.  Still used.

Ben glances at the screen which lights up Hux’s phone.  Hux is smiling, arms around a pretty brunette with a matching wedding ring whose hair is fashioned into an intricate bun.

Ben wonders if she straps it on and fucks him daily, or whether he gets it from somewhere else.  The fact that Ben apparently doesn’t even warrant enough space in Hux’s head or his heart to stop him from cheating on the person he cheats with hits him like a ton of bricks.

He throws on his clothes and steps back, staring at Hux like a junkie avoiding his next fix.

“I can’t do it anymore.”  Ben’s hands tremble at his sides.  “It’s been ten years, Hux.  Ten years too long."

Hux withdraws a cigarette from its carton quietly.  The end hisses as he lights it, and as it glows the room fills with the scent of tobacco and cloves.

“It’s our arrangement, Ben.”  He takes a deep drag, his eyes shrouded in the dark.  “It’s always been.”

Ben loved beauty.  He used to love to surround himself with beautiful things…

“Good-bye, Hux.”  The door closed behind him with a soft _snick_.

The neon light burned as the rain pattered and the smoke curled grey in the dark.

“See you, Ben.”

 

**_I'm never gonna leave you_ **

**_I never gonna leave_ **

**_Holdin' on, ten years gone_ **

**_Ten years gone, holdin' on, ten years gone_ **

**_Ten years gone, holdin' on_ **

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> *Come say "hi" on [Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nerdherderette)


End file.
